by Mia Ross
“I thought that was a requirement for people growing up on a farm.”
“It is. It’s just not me.”
He sipped his coffee, and she wondered if she should voice the question that had popped into her head all of a sudden. Then again, he knew plenty about her already, so she mustered up the courage to ask, “What is you?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve always believed God had something different in mind for me than this.”
Having drifted from place to place for most of her life, Bekah had never been part of any community long enough to get any kind of religious education. She vaguely remembered some of the Bible stories her late grandmother had read to her as a child, but other than that, she didn’t have an even passing acquaintance with the Almighty. Hearing Drew speak about Him so easily made her wonder if she’d been missing something.
That was a topic for another time, so she put it out of her mind and refocused on their conversation. “Then why do you stay here?”
“Don’t get me wrong—I like the work well enough. And I love my brothers, even though they drive me nuts on a daily basis.”
“That’s only fair—” Lily’s voice floated over from the doorway “—since they feel the same way about you.”
Drew laughed, and Bekah slid her stool down to make room for Lily. “Would you like some eggs?”
“Absolutely, but I’ll take them scrambled. Thank you.” Pouring herself a glass of orange juice, she looked over at Drew. “I should warn you, Mike’s got a long list of jobs for you today. Something about making up for lost time.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. What else is new?”
Footsteps creaked on the oak staircase, and Mike joined the group huddled around the breakfast dishes. He poured them each another cup of coffee and cocked his head with male interest. “Is that ham and peppers I smell?”
So, since she was the one holding the spatula, Bekah whipped up eggs for Lily and a farmer’s omelet stuffed with ham, cheese and peppers for Mike. A pudgy golden retriever that Mike called Charlie and a scruffy terrier who answered to the name Sarge ambled in from the living room, sniffing the air with canine interest. By the time Maggie and Abby joined them, Lily had fed the dogs, the humans had shifted over to the large dining table, and Bekah was moving around the big kitchen like she’d been living on the farm for years.
It was the kind of wonderful homey feeling she’d always longed for but had never known how to create. That she’d found it here, in this tiny town so far from the world she knew, was difficult to believe.
But no matter how many times she pinched herself, the image didn’t change. She still wasn’t sure what might happen to her in the future, but she’d always be grateful for the odd circumstances that had brought her to Oaks Crossing.
* * *
One night as he was driving home from the farm, Drew noticed lights on in the clinic. It was long past closing time, and the only car in the parking lot was Bekah’s sad-looking hatchback with its ruined windshield. He’d be amazed if the engine even started after sitting idle for so long. Accustomed to being on the go every day, he couldn’t imagine being stranded in one place that way.
Bekah seemed content to spend all her time on the farm, either at the clinic or with the family. Drew had gotten the feeling that her reluctance to mingle with anyone else was a clue about her very hazy background, but she hadn’t offered any more details about herself lately. Her personal history must be so painful that she didn’t want to think about it. The idea of her struggling through that kind of trouble on her own still made him angry, and as he got out of his pickup, he resolved to unravel the mystery of her someday. No matter how long it took.
When he tried the handle on the front door, he was pleased to find it locked. Bekah was scowling at the old laptop on the counter, and when she heard the rattle, her head whipped up to reveal a look of all-out panic on her pretty face. More than startled, she looked terrified.
Feeling bad for scaring her, he forced a reassuring smile and waved at her. She seemed rooted in place, and they stood there for several moments, staring at each other. It was the epitome of how their new friendship had been going, he realized: he trying to get in, she shutting him out.
Finally, she seemed to decide it was okay to let him into the lobby and came over to twist open the sturdy lock.
“You took ten years off my life,” she scolded, fastening the bolt behind him. “What are you doing here this time of night?”
“Sorry to scare you, but I was on my way home and saw the lights on. Is everything okay?”
“The animals are fine, but our system—” she flung a frustrated hand toward the computer “—is the sickest thing in the building.”
Drew noticed she called it “our system,” and he liked knowing that she included herself as one of the full-time staff. Even if there were currently only two of them. “Anything I can do?”
“Can you fix a computer?”
“Well, no, but I could distract you for a while. Maybe if you give it a rest and focus on something else, the solution will come to you.”
“So you’ve come to save the damsel in distress from the electronic dragon?”
She’d struck him as being a very somber person, so the unexpected fairy-tale reference made him grin. “More or less.”
“My hero. What did you have in mind?”
“I’m starving. How ’bout dinner? I hear the Oaks Café just put in a whole new menu I haven’t tried yet.”
“Is that the place that’s been doing renovations?” she asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
Suddenly, she looked very uncertain. Casting a look toward the back of the building, she nibbled her lower lip as if she was considering something that impacted the fate of her world. When she came back to him, some of the worry had left her features, but too much was left behind for his taste. He couldn’t imagine what was bothering her, but his gut told him that if he pushed, she’d clam up and refuse to tell him anything.
So he waited.
After several more seconds, she finally confided, “Sierra mentioned they have a new Laundromat attached to the restaurant.”
“Cool idea, huh?”
“Is it finished?”
“I think so.” Then it hit him why she was more interested in the laundry facilities than in having dinner with him. “I’m guessing you’re out of clean clothes.”
“Tomorrow is it. I was going to do them here, but Sierra nixed that idea.”
“Aw, man,” he groaned. “That’d be gross. Why didn’t you just ask Mom?”
“I really hate to impose any more than I already have. I mean, it was bad enough to take over Abby’s room that way, but your mom constantly invites me up there for meals. And she insists I call her ‘Maggie.’”
“No,” Drew exclaimed on a mock gasp. “What is that woman thinking?”
“I know it sounds dumb to you, but I’ve learned that no matter how nice people might be, it doesn’t take long to overstay my welcome.”
The soft confession blew away any thought of teasing her further, and Drew fought the urge to take her in his arms and reassure her that her fears were completely unfounded. Instead, he met her worried gaze with a smile. “I don’t know how they do things in Chicago, but around here, folks don’t have a time limit on hospitality. You’ve done more than pull your weight ever since you got here, and we’re happy to have you.”
“For now, anyway.”
That kind of pessimism was a learned trait, and it pained him to know that this bright, beautiful woman had picked it up somewhere along what must have been a difficult path. Since he couldn’t unlearn it for her, he figured the best thing he could do was prove to her that there was another way to go. And then show her how to get there herself.
“I’m still starving,” he said briskly,
stepping back to give her some space. “And I’m gonna try out the new menu at the Oaks. Wanna come?”
She hesitated, then asked, “Do you mind if I do laundry while we’re there?”
“’Course not. I’ll even help you fold.”
She rewarded him with a warm, grateful smile. “Are you still trying to be my hero?”
Yes, Drew nearly blurted before he caught himself and dialed his reaction back a notch. “Maybe.”
For the first time since he’d met her, Bekah let out a real, heartfelt laugh rather than the contained one he’d heard until now. In keeping with his new gallant status, he waited while she locked the clinic door and then followed her to her apartment. She jammed her clothing into her oversize duffel, and before she could lift it, he hefted it to his shoulder and motioned her out the door. “After you.”
“Is this the Southern gentleman thing I’ve always read about?” she asked as she locked the door and followed him out to his truck.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled with a grin. “We don’t just haul out these manners to impress the tourists, y’know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Drew hadn’t met many people who’d grown up anywhere other than Kentucky, and the differences between his upbringing and Bekah’s fascinated him. During their ride into town, they traded details about where they’d lived, and he learned that while Bekah had a fondness for Chicago, she and her family actually hadn’t been there all that long. Being born and raised on the rolling acreage of Gallimore Stables, he couldn’t help wondering what he’d be like if he’d had the opportunity to experience new cities and people the way she had.
While he pondered how to keep their intriguing conversation going, she looked out the passenger window with a heavy sigh. “Most places I’ve lived, it’s never really dark like this. There are so many street lights, you can’t even see the stars. And you can hardly sleep through the traffic noise, much less hear the birds.”
“Cities have parks, though.”
“Sure, but this whole area is like one enormous park,” she commented in a dreamy voice. “With all the horses and wild animals around, it goes on and on, with nothing to ruin the beauty of it.”
Drew had always considered his hometown to be a pretty place, but Bekah made it sound like paradise. Then again, that was probably because she’d had such a rough time lately and appreciated the tranquillity Oaks Crossing had to offer. Since he’d had more than his fill of peace and quiet, he longed for something more exciting. Images of Nolan’s Silver Creek property in Colorado floated through his mind, but he resolutely pushed them aside for another time.
When they arrived in town, it was about eight o’clock, and the sidewalks had been rolled up for the night. The vintage-style street lights were on their lowest setting, so that anyone out for a stroll wouldn’t stumble, and the upper end of Main Street had a see-you-in-the-morning kind of vibe.
At the other end, though, shining like a beacon of modern-day convenience, stood the newly refurbished Oaks Café. The small porch was full of rocking chairs and hanging baskets of flowers that reminded him of the old homes populating the town. With large front windows and strains of modern country music pouring through the open front doors, it seemed to invite anyone who was still around to come in and stay a while.
Standing near the door, Drew found an old friend he hadn’t seen in at least ten years. “Cam Stewart?” he exclaimed in surprise as they traded an enthusiastic hug. “What are you doing in town? You said the only way you’d ever come back here was in a pine box.”
“Yeah, well, Mom’s last stroke changed my mind.”
“I’m so sorry,” Drew murmured. “I heard she was doing better.”
“You heard wrong.”
No mention of the details, and no invitation to ask about them, Drew noticed. Taking the hint, he turned to Bekah. “Bekah Holloway, this is Cam, the black sheep of the Stewart family.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said, ducking her head as they shook hands. In the past few days, Drew had decided she wasn’t necessarily shy but definitely avoided making eye contact with new acquaintances. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was trying desperately to keep people from remembering her face.
But why?
All the reasons he’d come up with were bad, so he put the question out of his mind for now and forged ahead. Keenly aware of Bekah’s discomfort, he said, “I see the Laundromat’s open for business. I don’t suppose you’ve got any tables in there?”
“Sure, we do,” Cam retorted as if the question was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Folks need something to do while they’re waiting for their loads to finish. It’s mostly young people who do their laundry that way, and I thought if they had a chance to grab something to eat and chat with the other customers, it’d be more of a social thing than a chore.”
“You always were the smart one.”
“Speaking of smart,” Cam said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to them. “I hear Mike married a teacher. How’d a cranky old hound like him manage that one?”
“It’s a mystery, that’s for sure.”
A young man who looked barely old enough to drive alone at night appeared outside the swinging doors that led to the back of the diner, waving his arms at Cam in a frantic gesture. Frowning, the diner’s new manager patted Drew’s shoulder on his way to put out whatever fire had erupted in the kitchen. “You go on in and find a seat. Menus are on the tables.”
“Thanks.”
Hefting the bag on to his shoulder, he noticed Bekah was sticking close to his side as they walked through the dining room to the laundry facilities. He’d like to think she was cozying up to him out of fondness, but he knew better. Being so much bigger than her, he made the ideal shield for her to hide behind until they were through the dining room and in the less crowded snack bar.
They were the only people with laundry, so they commandeered three washing machines and loaded them up. Dangling the empty bag from one strap, Drew chuckled. “How’d you get all that—” he nodded at the chugging machines “—in here?”
“Practice.”
Her wry tone warned him not to pry any further, but once they’d ordered their dinners, he picked up the subject again.
“So,” he began in the most disinterested voice he could manage, “wanna tell me why you’re a packing savant?”
Shrugging, she sipped her ice water before responding. “Not really.”
Strike one, Drew thought. Then again, he still had two more, so he gave it another shot. “Okay, so how’d a nice Chicago girl like you end up here in Oaks Crossing?”
Taking a handful of pretzels from the basket in the center of the table, she popped one in her mouth while she studied him closely. Drew had no idea what she might be looking for, but he endured her scrutiny with as much patience as he could muster. Normally, he wasn’t one for playing games, but instinct told him that to Bekah, this was deadly serious. Maybe if he hung in there with her, he’d finally discover why.
After what felt like forever, she relented. “Let’s just say I have a really bad sense of direction.”
“Huh. Well, that’s not much of an explanation.”
“It’s more of one than I’ve given anyone in a long time.”
She added the kind of sad smile that only women seemed capable of delivering, and he was torn between pressing her for more and letting her be. Fortunately, their food arrived, giving him a chance to pull back far enough to let her breathe while they ate. The way she attacked her cheeseburger, it was as if she expected not to eat again for days.
“These waffle fries are fantastic,” she said with an approving hum. “I wonder what’s in this seasoning?”
“You could ask Cam, but knowing him, he’ll probably look you dead in the eyes and say, ‘I could tel
l you, but then I’d have to kill you.’”
That made her laugh, and he sensed her relaxing while they plowed through their meal. Drew suspected she’d never ask for anything else, so he took it upon himself to order more of the waffle fries for them to share.
When she was up shifting her clothes from washers to dryers, he flagged down their waitress and discreetly handed her his credit card. “This is on me, no matter what the lady says. Okay?”
“Sure. I’ll run you a tab.”
“Thanks.”
“If you’re interested, Wednesday is couples night in here. You get two-for-one if you bring in at least one load of laundry.”
The concept reminded him of gas stations that offered a discount at the pumps if you washed your car in their bays. “That’s a great idea. I had no clue Cam was such a business-oriented guy.” Then he registered what she’d said, and he hurried to add, “But the lady and I are just friends.”
“Every couple starts out that way, don’t they?”
He couldn’t dispute that, so he grinned. “I guess you’re right.”
Clearly pleased that she’d taught him something, she flounced back to the counter to place his order.
“Cute,” Bekah commented when she rejoined him. “Flirting for tips.”
The cynical assessment rubbed him the wrong way, and he frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“You really don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“How the women in this town stare at you when you walk by,” she explained, dipping a fry into the puddle of ketchup she’d made on the plate. “With the way they all drool at the sight of you, you might as well be a piece of steak in the lion’s pen at the zoo.”
Drew was fairly certain she didn’t realize that she’d just confessed to watching other women’s reactions to him. Resting his elbows on the table, he leaned toward her with a grin. “Yeah? What else do they do?”
“Well, they—” She caught herself and gave him a scathing glare. “I’m not telling you. Your ego’s big enough as it is.”
“Really? What makes you say that?”
